


Culture shock

by westofnowhere



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Arranged Marriage, F/F, Female Homosexuality, Femslash, Game of Thrones AU, Khal Thorin and Khaleesi Bilbo, Rule 63, Rule 63 Hobbit cast
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-22
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-09 04:54:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/770203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westofnowhere/pseuds/westofnowhere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo never thought she'd forced to marry, especially forced to marry the great Khal of the Dothraki. But for her own protection, she joins in a marriage and slowly learns about the type of people her new wife and her new people are. </p>
<p>But really, she's not to be ignored or manhandled like some sort of THING. She is their new Khaleesi after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I don't want to get married

**Author's Note:**

> Game of Thrones Rule 63 Bagginshield AU.

“I don’t want to get married.”

The words sat heavily on the air and she received a sharp look from her handler. The curly haired woman swallowed but soldiered on. “We have nothing in common. What if she hates me? Am I expected to just lay there and wait until she smothers me in my sleep?”

“Bilbo...”

“Have you seen her face? Every time she looked at me, she looked to be plotting the route to the nearest pillow. Or the nearest sword. I can’t do this!”

“Bilbo...”

“I’m not fit to be some Khal’s wife!” She spluttered at last, huffing out her cheeks as she plopped down to sit on the nearest pillow while her handler looked at her disapprovingly.

“Whether you consider yourself fit or not is out of the question. It is happening.” She said flatly and Bilbo hissed through her teeth, sucking in her bottom lip.

“...I just want to go home...” She breathed almost inaudibly.

“Home? What home are you talking about?” Came the incredulous reply, making Bilbo frown.

“...My home...” She muttered, looking considerably deflated and the gray eyed woman barked out a laugh.

“The home that no longer wants you? The home that won’t let you back unless it is your head being brought back on a silver platter?” Bilbo swallowed heavily, rubbing frantically at her curls.

“...I just...” She broke off, groaning heavily before throwing her arms up in defeat. “Fine! But if she tries to smother me in my sleep, I’m blaming you and only you.”

“Don’t give her reasons to.”

“Ha! I don’t have to give her reasons, she just looks at my face and it’s apparent.” The curly haired woman grumbled before sighing and standing up once more, stretching to stand on her tippy toes. It had been 4 days since the great Thorin Oakenshield rode up to her as she stood beside her handler in a dress she could not believe she was ever forced to wear. It was far too sheer and far too long for her stature, her long golden brown curls swept back around her face.

It had taken Gandalf a full hour to convince the ever stubborn Bilbo to put the gown on. “I’m naked in this!” She gasped out, taking one look at the sheer green fabric of the garment.

“You are not.”

“I am! Everyone will be able to see all...all of my business.” She trailed off weakly and Gandalf rolled her eyes.

“Bilbo, that is the point. What do you think this meeting will be about?” Bilbo simmered and bit her lip, chewing on it frantically. At least...at least it was a lovely color. It was a gorgeous golden tinted green with gold clasps holding the shoulder straps up. A gold chained belt wrapped around the waist and hung low on the woman’s hips when she finally slipped the garment on. It did however, leave very little to the imagination and Bilbo had to fight every instinct to hide herself behind her hands.

But there was Thorin, looming over Bilbo from astride her magnificent black horse, her eyes traveling up and down the curly haired woman’s form. She said nothing but seemed to glare, making Bilbo feel simultaneously smaller and more defiant at the gaze. She jerked her chin up and squared her jaw, meeting the Khal’s glare with her own. Beside her, Gandalf hissed through her teeth.

Bilbo wouldn’t back down from it. She wasn’t some child to be scowled down on. She was a fully grown woman! Thorin said nothing. She didn’t even react really but shot Gandalf a look before turning the horse around and spurring it out of the courtyard once more, leaving the curly haired woman to gape after her and her warriors as they retreated.

“I don’t understand. That’s it? She didn’t even say anything!”

“If she had refused, you wouldn’t be standing here. At least not with your head attached.” Was the reply from Gandalf which made Bilbo frown, quickly running her fingers over her neck and through her curls before moving said curls so they at least covered her practically bare breasts. This was ridiculous. She could have just as well worn something far less revealing...and warmer. Her skin crawled with goose bumps.

Even now, 4 days later and dressed far warmer, Bilbo felt those same goose bumps creep up. Their wedding would be tomorrow. And even though she knew Gandalf was right, she couldn’t help but think again about how she wanted to go home. She missed her parents. Missed her father especially. And the prospect of this marriage made her want her parents all the more. It was frightening. But this was a choice beyond her control.

Some choice too. It was more of a marriage of convenience than anything else. To cement Bilbo’s protection from those people who would be far too happy to chop off her head and bring it back as a trophy. Come to think of it, the Khal might want her head as a trophy as well.

That was a distressing thought. Idly playing with her long, loose curls, Bilbo tried really hard to remain calm. After all, this would at least solve her situation with what her future held in store, good or ill. It was terrifying but it was at least SOMETHING. Even if she got smothered or beheaded by her wife-to-be.

What a lovely prospect, Bilbo huffed before leaving Gandalf with a soft good bye, rustling out of the room. She needed to be alone. She needed to think and ponder and plot a way to not die. Maybe she was overreacting over the whole situation. Returning to her chambers, Bilbo dug out her quill, ink and paper and began to scribble.

                _Dearest father,_

_Thinking of you wherever you are. I wish you could see me now. Your little girl is all grown up and being forced to marry. Just like great gran envisioned it._

_Father, I can’t do this. Even if duty says I must... I cannot marry this woman, especially in fear for my own life. But I know what you would say. “Grow up, Bilbo. Who have you grown up to be? A sniveling worm? Or a Took?” But father, even that prospect is far beyond my abilities. Gandalf has claimed that I am capable of far more than I know but she has said that before and to no avail._

_At least give me some strength, father. This adventure is far more than I bargained for but maybe I will leave it far more Tookish that I ever dreamed._

_I miss you and mother terribly. If I was braver, I would bring you back. And then you could smack me for tangling with black magic. May the gods watch over your souls and please pray that I don’t join you quite yet. I’m sorry, it sounds selfish but death is something I’m far too scared of. Maybe in time I’ll come to accept it._

_I love you both._

_Bilbo._

Sitting back in her chair, Bilbo read and reread the letter, chewing on her bottom lip before carefully sealing it and, opening the chest beside her bed, stashing it inside on top of the large stack of papers hidden in there. It had become a ritual. Every night she would sit down and write a letter to her deceased parents. Bilbo found that even this little activity helped keep her sanity. And her father had always been her biggest giver of strength.

“I can do this.” Bilbo breathed to the empty room, nervous fingers twining in her curls. “I can do this....” She muttered again as a sort of quiet mantra, tugging at her hair. Yes. She could do this. She would tame this Khal.

With those thoughts giving her strength, Bilbo finally toddled off to bed, curling up and falling asleep instantly.

The morning dawned cold and crisp and Bilbo rolled out of bed in a panic. Her wedding. It was the day of her wedding. She wasn’t ready. She was far from ready. Stumbling stupidly out of her room, Bilbo raced out to get ready. Oh gods, oh no. Gandalf caught hold of her after she washed up, making the curly haired woman return to her room and tending to her hair.

“It’ll be fine.” Gandalf promised as she brushed Bilbo’s hair, platting it carefully and weaving dual colored red and white roses into the curls. “The Dothraki know quickly what they want and don’t want. The fact that the Khal reacted favorably to you is good.” She assured the younger woman as Bilbo fidgeted with the hem of her dress. She was so tired of dresses. She wanted her trousers and lovely buttoned shirts. But here she was, dressed all formal, with flowers slowly being woven into her hair. The roses were woven together with lovely smelling apple blossoms and tiny baby’s breath before Gandalf pinned the plait back, successfully pulling loose strands of Bilbo’s hair away from her face.

Making the younger woman stand, the gray eyed keeper smiled easily. “There you are. Ready as ever.” She crooned before ushering Bilbo before a mirror. She felt ridiculous. But looked alright? At least she hoped she looked alright. She wore a pale blue, chiffon dress, draping down to the floor with a strap that tied loosely around her neck, keeping it up. Ridiculous, really. So much concern with dresses and flowers and color meanings and here she was. Being wed into the Dothraki who could have cared less about any of that. Hopefully they would let her wear her pants.

Taking Gandalf’s arm, the woman allowed herself to be led down the hall. She could hear people outside. It made her stomach do nervous back flips as she imagined all of the Khalasar gathered there. All those people and she was an outsider. A stranger being brought in that the Khal had somehow accepted to wed. She supposed she should be relieved it wasn’t the alternative of what the Dothraki usually did.

The courtyard was packed. Say anything about the Dothraki but they were boisterous people when it came to festivities, especially marriage festivities. There was a roast. And dancing, and fighting. A lot of it. But the Khal had stood as soon as Bilbo was brought into the courtyard, taking long strides to stand before the much shorter woman. Cold blue eyes studied Bilbo’s plump cheeks and pale neck before she wordlessly extended a hand to the woman without actually looking her in the eyes.

Swallowing what felt like a boulder in the back of her throat, Bilbo shakily accepted the offered hand, her other hand quickly grabbing onto her skirt to hold it off the floor as the Khal guided them both through the gathered Khalasar and to the cushions set up for them at the far end of the court yard. Bilbo could feel herself shake. And still Thorin did not look at her. Icy blue eyes looked at everyone BUT her and Bilbo felt defiantly insulted even as she bit her tongue to keep any insults from flying. She had heard Thorin wasn’t known for her patience.

As they were finally seated, Bilbo took a moment to glance at her wife-to-be. She was taller by two heads or so, long black hair braided tightly behind her with smaller braids weaving over her scalp and into the larger mass of hair. She held herself with the deepest of pride and sat straight, skin tanned golden bronze and ice blue eyes intensely bright. Her wife-to-be; muscled and covered in symbolic paint all over her revealed flesh and Bilbo sat beside her feeling suddenly incredibly small.

And in comparison, she really was small. Small and completely the opposite of this warrior. With her pale skin and her plump figure, covered in baby blue fabric and golden brown curls braided with flowers. Appearance of course, did wonders to hide the snippy mind beneath. She might have been smaller and a bit rounder in stature but she was not to be brushed aside so lightly. Not by anyone.

Straightening on her cushion and holding her head high, Bilbo tried her best to pay attention to the people around her. There were so many and they were all so different but she began to pick out certain folk that Thorin seemed to zone in on. Family perhaps, she guessed, trying to study them better from her high perch above the dancing and feasting figures.

Food was brought up to them and Bilbo surprised herself in actually accepting any of it, even as her stomach writhed with nerves. She had to force herself to eat but still watched the people in quiet fascination even as Thorin shouted down at them in a harsh language she did not understand. Focused as she was on the people, she didn’t even notice Thorin actually looking at her. The Khal seemed to be studying her bride intently, the expression on her face unreadable before a playful glint slipped into her eyes and she peered down to two young women seated a little below them.

The older one, golden hair littered with braids here and there, beamed wide before hefting herself up and yanking her sister along as they disappeared into the crowd. When they returned, Thorin stood. Bilbo hadn’t even realized how long had passed. She had watched people fight and feast, dance and sing in their bizarre language and so engrossed was she that she barely noticed the sun slowly starting to sink. It was time for the gifts.

Setting aside her barely finished food, Bilbo hefted herself to stand as the two girls brought up a large chest. The one Bilbo assumed to be older smiled wide. “A gift for our new Khaleesi.” She said brightly and Bilbo stepped down from her perch to carefully lift the lid. Inside was a sword.

It stunned the curly haired woman into speechlessness for a few moments before pale fingers dove into the chest carefully, extracting the weapon. Slowly, she unsheathed it and let the dying rays of the sun play upon the blade, coloring it in flames. It was a gorgeous weapon, skillfully crafted with a blade that waisted slightly in a very leaf like shape. Patterns traced upon its steal in swirls and the handle was carved with gold runes.

“Thank you.” She gasped out at last to the two girls, the younger girl smiling wide and bowing a little crookedly.

“Don’t chop anything off you don’t mean to.” She teased before the chest was closed and they retreated. Bilbo wasn’t about to admit that she had no idea how to actually use a sword and was just happy she didn’t lose a finger while unsheathing it. Re-sheathing it slowly, Bilbo carefully set the weapon beside her cushion as a rather tall man made his way up the stairs to their platform.

He was tall and handsome and rather ageless, Bilbo found, with dark red auburn hair neatly pushed back from his eyes. “Tauriel is my name.” He said sternly, a steely tone resounding in his voice. “I offer a gift, but it is not much, Khaleesi.” He offered with a bow and a whisper before extending a small stack of books into Bilbo’s hands. Bilbo beamed so bright she thought her face might snap. Some of the books were histories, some genealogies and one was a completely blank, leather bound novel that Bilbo relished writing in. She didn’t bother containing her joy at the gift and thanked the man from the bottom of her heart.

Next came the gift from Gandalf. Her handler had been plotting something for a while and as the old woman clapped her hands, Bilbo tried really hard not to look nervous again. Two tall men came bearing another large chest, having to kneel slightly so Bilbo could reach the lid. She flipped it open slowly and had to gasp.

“This...this is...”

“Dragon egg, my dear Bilbo. It is fossilized of course, but it will never not be beautiful.” Gandalf said from behind the two men as Bilbo reached down into the chest, extracting the egg carefully and holding it reverently in both hands. It was crimson in color with a slight fading to an orangish gold on either end. She twirled it carefully and it caught the light of the dying sun, making its color dance richer upon the egg’s surface.

“Good gracious...this is stunning...” She breathed aloud as the two men set the chest down carefully before her while she remained studying the egg in fascination. It took a moment for Bilbo to remember herself and she lowered the egg to bow. “Thank you, Gandalf. It is lovely!” She said brightly. It was only after that, that she remembered where she was. Thorin’s hand landed firmly on her shoulder and she swallowed back her suddenly sprung nerves to carefully set the egg back in its chest, letting her wife guide her back down the stairs and through the throngs of people.

A tall woman stood there, hair mostly shaved and tattoos covering the revealed skin of her head, holding the reigns of a golden brown mare. Thorin stopped beside the horse and motioned for Bilbo to come closer. Slinking towards the animal, Bilbo carefully let her fingers dance over its neck and flanks before she jerked suddenly as Thorin finally spoke to her.

“My gift to you.” Was the gruff comment before the taller woman managed what looked to be a smile. “You will ride among us as mine.” She added matter-of-factly and Bilbo couldn’t help but feel like a piece of claimed property rather than someone’s betrothed. She coughed slightly.

“Thank you.” She offered at last and Thorin stepped closer, bridging the gap between them.

“Do you accept these gifts?” She asked evenly, cold blue eyes meeting Bilbo’s own dark ones.

“...I do.” Was the practically defiant reply, Bilbo squaring her jaw and meeting Thorin’s gaze stubbornly. The taller women considered her evenly before nodding.

“Then it is done.” Was the flat comment before one hand slipped under Bilbo’s chin, tipping her head back to carefully plant their lips together. It was short and innocent kiss and Bilbo had to fight the creeping suspicion that Thorin didn’t particularly want to touch her right now. Much less kiss her. She fought very hard against the grimace as Thorin pulled back before Thorin’s hands were suddenly on her waist, hoisting her onto the horse’s saddle.

She didn’t yelp but held onto the saddle horn for dear life. Oh no, this wasn’t good. She hadn’t ridden before. Swallowing thickly, Bilbo looked around a little frantically before her eyes landed on the tall, elegant Tauriel. “What do I do?” She whispered sheepishly and the man smiled evenly at her.

“Hold the reigns.” He whispered back. “And kick her lightly to move.”

Nodding her thanks, Bilbo tried not to panic as Thorin swung herself onto her magnificent black stallion beside her. She was just feeling proud of herself for having not fallen off the animal when Thorin grabbed the reigns from her and, clucking her own horse into motion, spurred them out of the courtyard, with Bilbo barely having time to grab the saddle horn once more.

It hadn’t hit until now but they were heading towards their consummation. The final act before their marriage was final. Bilbo’s stomach did terrified flips again. She had tried not to think about it. Sex wasn’t the scary part. It was the idea of having it with someone she barely knew to finalize a marriage. And they didn’t ride very far before Thorin stopped the horses, sliding off before easily taking Bilbo by the waist again and setting her down beside her.

Under the moon and under the stars, Thorin studied her almost wife in silent calculation before calloused fingers pressed to Bilbo’s soft cheek, petting the skin.

“Mine.” She breathed at last as Bilbo didn’t pull away before careful fingers extracted one of the red white roses from the shorter woman’s hair.

“The color means unity.” Bilbo put in helpfully as Thorin studied the flower before she nodded, setting the flower into her own hair in a strangely sweet gesture before her hands carefully moved to the strap of Bilbo’s dress. The shorter woman didn’t protest and Thorin’s fingers deftly undid it, letting the dress fall away slowly onto the ground before calloused fingers slowly pressed to Bilbo’s breasts, carefully kneading the skin.

“Mine.” She breathed again.

“I’m not a possessi...” Bilbo protested but Thorin’s finger landed on her lips, quieting her for the moment.

“Not my possession.” Thorin said flatly. “My wife.”

And there it was. The strangest thing Bilbo Baggins ever remembered doing in her life. Ever. By the end of it, they were both nude, flowers spilling from Bilbo’s now tussled hair onto the ground and forming a sort of carpet beneath them as they had sex beneath the stars. It wasn’t love. Not that Bilbo could feel. But maybe one day, it would turn out to be.

And by the end of it they were really and truly married. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flower meanings-  
> Red and White roses: Unity  
> Baby's Breath- Festivity, innocence, pure of heart, happiness.  
> Apple blossoms- Promise, togetherness, good fortune
> 
> And light blue is associated with health, healing, tranquility, understanding, and softness.
> 
> This is something I've always wanted to write and considering the lack of femslash! Bagginshield out there, I thought I'd give it a whirl.
> 
> Edit- I forgot to switch Belladonna's gender...
> 
> I own nothing of Tolkien's or Martin's.


	2. Stories of dragons

The Khalasar departed the next day with Bilbo now riding among them upon her new golden brown mare. It was the oddest sensation to think that she was now married into the Dothraki, even if Thorin rode in front of the riders and refused to look back at her new wife, leaving said wife to grumble and grouch under her nose. Really, shouldn’t they spend actual time together if anything was to happen? Or was this just another conquest for the Khal?

The one thing that made everything a little better was Gandalf’s presence. The older woman wouldn’t be parted from her charge of 20 years and rode proudly upon her white stallion next to the new Khaleesi. Bilbo peered at her hopefully.

“You did well, child.” The older woman said after a long silence, looking at her charge seriously before a faint smile crossed her lips. Bilbo couldn’t hold back a faint blush, wrinkling her nose.

“I am just happy I didn’t seriously embarrass myself in front of the whole Khalasar.” She grumbled, peering over the heads of the people to see Thorin again, riding next to the tattooed woman from the night before. Bilbo wondered who that woman was.

“The Khal’s second in command, so to speak. Dwalin is her name.” Gandalf said to Bilbo’s unasked question as they both studied the tall woman and her impressively long braid and her even more impressive muscles. Bilbo whistled.

“She looks menacing.”

“Because she is.”

“She could probably break me.”

“Most likely.”

Bilbo couldn’t help but laugh at Gandalf’s frankness and also couldn’t help agree that her handler was probably right. That woman was even more muscular than Thorin. And yet, Bilbo had been surprised to find out how gentle the warrior woman could be. The thought made her blush violently and she coughed, rubbing a hand over her cheeks. Gracious, was she sore. And not even from the previous nights events, even though she was sure that contributed to it. They had been riding for a while now and her thighs were starting to chafe and the palms of her hands rubbed uncomfortably against the reigns.

She grumbled softly under her nose and Gandalf peered at her. “Bilbo, you can call for them to stop.” The older woman said blankly and Bilbo peered at her.

“I...don’t want to be a bother.” She muttered, earning a laugh from her handler.

“You are their new Khaleesi. You can tell them anything you want.” Was the matter-of-fact statement and Bilbo was once again struck with that realization. Gods, she was. Swallowing thickly, the curly haired woman straightened as best she could on her horse, calling over the Khalasar to stop. Thorin pulled her horse to a halt, looking back at her wife over her shoulder before nodding to her tattooed companion.

They stopped and made camp and a tent was erected especially for Bilbo. She blushed slightly as she was escorted inside, wobbling a little unevenly and looking feebly at the raw marks on her hands and feet. How embarrassing. And she had been so proud of herself up until now and now she was just chafed and sore from riding. She hadn’t been in the tent for very long before she was joined by three other women, two of whom she recognized right away from the day before. They wore almost identical mischievous grins and looked to be separated by only a few years of age. The older one’s gold hair was currently braided back from her face while the younger girl’s raven black locks flew loose from any restraints.

“Good afternoon, Khaleesi.” Was the bright greeting from the golden haired girl before she slunk over and urged Bilbo to sit. “A little chafed from riding?” She chuckled and Bilbo wrinkled her nose before flopping down where instructed.

“I’m not used to so much time on horseback.” She admitted at last, studying the three curiously. The third girl appeared to be a little younger than the sisters with short cropped golden brown hair and freckles littering her tanned skin. She smiled awkwardly at Bilbo and slunk closer. Bilbo returned the smile more genuinely before looking over at the oldest girl.

“I don’t think I ever got your names.”

“Ah! Of course! Fili is my name, and this is my sister Kili. And this is Ori. The Khal had bade us make you comfortable.” The oldest girl said brightly as she brought forward a basin of warm, soapy water. Bilbo peered at the three a bit sheepishly.

“This is highly unnecessary.” She muttered awkwardly as Ori carefully took one of her hands. “I can do this myself...” She added and Fili tutted at her.

“Nonsense Miss Boggins.” She said brightly as she urged Bilbo to dip her sore feet into the soapy basin of water. “Our aunt was insistent on it.”

“...You’re Thorin’s nieces?” Bilbo gaped out and Kili laughed.

“I guess she didn’t mention it. Yes. We are. Our father is away for the moment so we were left in the Khal’s care.”

“Oh gracious... I didn’t anticipate... I mean...” Bilbo broke off a bit stupidly and couldn’t hold back a weak hiss as Ori carefully cleaned the palm of her right hand. The reigns must have done more damage than she thought initially. Kili grinned impishly.

“And now we have two aunts.” She giggled before her sister cuffed her with a soft laugh. Bilbo couldn’t help but blush. It was also an odd sensation. It had been very long since she had an actual family and Bilbo wasn’t quite sure what to do with herself now that was suddenly accepted into one.

Ori, who had stayed quiet while they spoke, gently dabbed salve onto Bilbo’s palm before her eyes traveled to the dragon egg, nestled in its chest across the tent. “Have you thought of what you’d do with the egg, Khaleesi?” The girl asked gently and Bilbo’s attention snapped over to Ori, and then the egg. It really was lovely, deep fiery in color and seemed to glow even from across the tent.

“I don’t know really. It’s quite lovely.” Ori studied the egg as she worked, shy smile painting her features.

“I’ve read a lot about dragons. Many stories of great deeds and fearsome beasts as big as the moon.” Ori said dreamily and Kili grinned at the younger girl.

“Those are just stories, Ori.” She said brightly, making Ori frown.

“All stories come from somewhere, usually from histories. We may think of it as myth, but even myths come from facts.” The girl said matter-of-factly, peering up at Bilbo, who looked incredibly curious.

“Can you tell me some of them?” She asked the younger girl, who beamed shyly and nodded.

“There was a story of dragon riders, Khaleesi. Great warriors who rode the skies on giant beasts to win the war 300 years ago.”

“Dragon riders?” Bilbo muttered incredulously and Ori nodded.

“It was stories of those with dragon blood. They were able to commune with the dragons.” The young girl affirmed while carefully wrapping Bilbo’s hand with gauze. Fili looked thoughtfully down at the younger girl.

“You really think those are true, Ori?”

“Oh yes.” Ori looked eagerly up at Fili and hid a blush before her eyes averted once more. “Dragons flew our skies. And they will again.”

Bilbo considered those words as she studied the glittering egg sitting across the tent. Real dragons. Part of her dreamed to see the day. Her mother had told her something along those lines and Bilbo was never sure if she believed them. She really wanted to. This fossilized egg was far more proof than anyone had ever had and she wondered suddenly how and where Gandalf had found it.

“Dragons...” She muttered under her nose, slipping into a dreamy reverie while the girls finished with her blisters and calluses. Before they left however, Bilbo snapped out of her thoughts.

“Could you teach me?” She blurted out suddenly and at their looks of confusion, the older woman brushed a hand nervously through her curls. “About the Dothraki. I feel silly not knowing of the people I’m supposed to be part of. Could you teach me?”

Spotting the mischievous looks that passed between the sisters, Ori coughed gently. “Perhaps, Khaleesi, they are not the best people to ask.” She said gently, making the sisters groan at their spoiled fun while Ori soldiered on. “I will ask my sister, and Mistress Balin. They know far more than us.” She bowed and excused herself while Fili and Kili beamed at Bilbo and gave her quick, rather affectionate hugs, making her smile.

“You two behave.” She called after the girls as they disappeared from her tent before slowly standing and approaching the egg. She lifted it carefully from its resting place, twirling it in her hands. Dragons. Imagining herself astride a large, crimson dragon made Bilbo shiver involuntarily. Oh what an appealing idea, it was. And she could swear that she felt the egg throb, even through the thick layer of rock covering it.

“Maybe one day, little one.” Bilbo breathed to her empty tent, careful fingers skating the surface of the egg before she gently set it back in its resting place. She was being silly. All this talk of dragons and suddenly she was feeling like she could hatch the long fossilized egg.

It was in her musings that Bilbo didn’t hear Thorin enter their tent. The woman stopped at the entrance, studying the curve of Bilbo’s back before silently slinking forward and burying her face in her wife’s hair. Bilbo almost jumped out of her skin but finally relaxed when she realized who it was.

“Thorin.”

“Hmmm.”

“I trust you are well.”

“Mmmm.” Bilbo pursed her lips, trying to find something else to say. Thorin was clearly not a conversationalist and Bilbo did not know how to even start getting to know her new wife, who still had her nose buried in Bilbo’s curls.

“You still smell of flowers.” Came the faint comment from behind her and Bilbo frowned slightly. Why did the Khal make that sound like a bad thing?

“There are far worse things I could smell like.” The woman retorted snippily before she was slowly turned to face the taller Khal, their eyes actually meeting as Thorin studied her face intently.

“You seem displeased.” The Khal pointed out and Bilbo couldn’t help but bristle.

“I would have thought we would spend some time, get to actually know each other, but you’ve barely even looked at me and oh...” She trailed off as Thorin lowered her face so they were eye to eye now, making Bilbo simmer down and swallow slightly. She really had to watch herself. The Dothraki were never known to be the most peaceful of people.

Thorin flicked Bilbo’s chin slightly. “Soon.” She promised at last before pulling some of Bilbo’s curls into her hand and gently running her fingers through them. Bilbo looked a bit aghast but stared at her wife without moving before her hair was released and the woman pulled Bilbo closer against her, calloused fingers running along the milky white of the smaller woman’s neck.

“You are so soft.” Thorin breathed. “I am afraid I might break you.” She felt Bilbo bristle once more.

“I’m not made of twigs.” The smaller woman protested, Thorin appearing almost amused at her new wife’s reactions to things that she thought to be affronts to her person.

“No,” the taller woman agreed gruffly “But you are no Dothraki.” The words seemed to shatter Bilbo almost completely and she appeared unsure as to why Thorin was even saying this. She frowned.

“No... I suppose I’m not.” Was the slow agreement, Thorin’s fingers slowly sliding through her wife’s curls before Bilbo grabbed the warrior’s hand. “Can you tell me why then?”

“Why?”

“Why me? You are the great Khal of the Dothraki. You can have any woman...or man that you want. Why me?” She asked as evenly as she could, still keeping hold on Thorin’s hand while the Khal studied her face.

Why DID she go for this woman? So plump and curly haired; like something out of a painting with flowers woven in her hair. Perhaps it was the allure of something different. Something unique that she had never experienced.

“I like things I’ve never seen before.” She said evenly before her finger landed on Bilbo’s lips as she saw the woman about to protest. “No, you are not a thing.” Thorin confirmed, ice blue eyes far more serious than Bilbo had expected. “That doesn’t stop me from wanting to discover you.” She added and Bilbo’s indignation turned into a sputter, blushing brightly. She could feel one of the Khal’s hands pressing to her breast, carefully cupping around it with calloused fingers.

“Gracious...” Thorin didn’t smile but her ice blue eyes remained fixed on her new wife’s face. She had been wrong quite a lot in her life. Maybe this time would be different. She had found something new and intriguing to pique her interest and maybe one day something would come of it.

She wasn’t holding her breath for it though. And it would shock the Khal greatly if something did. But the depended more on how Bilbo adapted to the situation. And Thorin wasn’t utterly willing to bend over backwards to like all of what she considered to be Bilbo’s weaknesses. She needed to toughen before the Khal would ever consider her to be truly her wife and equal.

Still, the smaller woman was pleasant to the touch; her skin warm and smooth beneath calloused fingers and it didn’t take much effort for Thorin to pin her against the furs of her tent, ravishing that soft skin with wandering lips and hands. It was the second time in two days where she would get Bilbo to moan out her name. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, this is my first femslash fic ever and it's been an incredibly joy to write. 
> 
> Some notes-  
> I am going to start combining Martin's and Tolkien's mythologies because as much as I like the Dothraki, I also want this to represent Tolkien's dwarves. I also need to deviate the narrative somewhat, I think because it's going to be incredibly predictable if I follow Daenerys and Khal Drogo's path (as much as love them, that's just unoriginal of me.)
> 
> And yes, Dis is alive and kicking in this and will probably be around later.


	3. Plenty of lessons

When Bilbo woke up, Thorin was gone. Again. Sighing in exasperated defeat, the curly haired woman hauled herself off the furs. She didn’t expect the Khal to stick around but a nice ‘good morning’ would have been, well...nice. She supposed she wanted too much. The Khal was a busy woman.

Still, Bilbo reasoned, she WAS the new Khaleesi. Shouldn’t she be busy with things as well? Well, she could get busy with learning about her new people. Plan now firmly set in mind, Bilbo was delighted to find a change of clothes already waiting for her. It was clothing far closer to what the Dothraki wore, which blissfully included pants and the woman pulled them on happily, the top consisting of an incredibly comfortable woven fabric. Forgoing the offered boots, Bilbo decided to go barefoot and quickly pulling loose hair back into a small clip, she went off to find some sort of food.

Her search was short. The whole Khalasar seemed ready to feed their new Khaleesi and Bilbo was now happily munching on honeyed cakes and berries as she strolled around camp, observing everything curiously. They all moved different and spoke different, their language harsh but not unpleasant and Bilbo found herself once again wondering what it all meant. She should really find a tutor. Or just ask the girls when she saw them again.

“A lovely morning to you, Khaleesi.” Came a stern greeting from her left and she had to fight the urge to jump out of her skin as the voice had come suddenly. She smiled, quickly swallowing a blueberry.

“Good morning...Tauriel, was it?” The much taller man smiled lightly, bowing his respect and Bilbo beamed a bit sheepishly.

“I did not realize you were part of the Khalasar.”

“I am not. Not directly.” He admitted as they strolled. “Gandalf has asked me to accompany you while she is away on business.” Bilbo sighed, rolling her eyes. That meddlesome woman; she would hire Bilbo a bodyguard. But she didn’t want to be rude. She smiled.

“Gandalf really has thought of everything.”

“Only with regards to your safety.” The words made Bilbo pause, bare toes wriggling in the soft grass as she peered up at the man.

“You don’t think I’m safe?” She asked slowly and Tauriel shook his head, the sun glimmering in his red auburn hair.

“You have nothing to fear from the Dothraki. It is others you should be weary of.”

“Others?”

“Bandits prowl the grass. Orcs have been spotted in the mountains. The world is not a safe place, Khaleesi.” Bilbo supposed that was incredibly true and also an incredibly foolish question for her to ask. She couldn’t hold back a sheepish laugh, coughing slightly and stuffing her mouth with honeyed cake.

“I suppose it’s silly to ask.”

“No. It’s perfectly normal, all things considered.” Tauriel said simply, shrugging and resting a hand on the hilt of his sword as they broke into a stroll once more. They walked in silence for a while, Bilbo offering the man a few berries which he politely declined. As they passed by Dwalin, the warrior woman shot Tauriel a suspicious glare before slinking off. The man’s face remained impassive.

“I do not think the Khal likes me very much.”

Bilbo couldn’t hold back a small scoff. “I wouldn’t let that get to you. My wife doesn’t seem to like many things.”

“She is suspicious of me.”

“Oh?”

Tauriel considered, rubbing a hand through his short red auburn hair. “She does not think I am an honorable man.” He admitted, earning a curious glance from Bilbo as she licked honey from her fingers. The man considered, lips tugging into a faint smile. “I suppose I am not. I am a knight in exile.” He peered down at Bilbo as he spoke and when the woman didn’t seem revolted by the notion, he continued. “As my homeland will not take me back anymore, the Khal has a suspicion that I may try to corrupt what she is trying to build here.”

Bilbo considered those words, lowering a berry from her lips. “What did you do?”

“I did not listen to my queen.” At the look Bilbo shot him, the man laughed slightly. “She is a temperamental woman who took all disagreements as affronts to her person.”

“What a silly reason to be banished.” At the long ‘hmmm’ drawn out by the taller man, Bilbo peered at him a little wearily. “There’s more to it isn’t there..?” She asked faintly, and Tauriel smiled simply in reply.

“In time.” He said easily before stopping and turning to face Bilbo. “You may doubt me, but it is my duty to protect you from harm, Khaleesi. And I intend to do just that.” With those words, he lowered himself to one knee before the curly haired woman and, pulling the sword out, offered it to her hilt first. Bilbo looked rightfully surprised by the action but fumbled, carefully resting a hand on the blade.

“I accept it with thanks.” She said at last, trying to be as formal as possible before gently nudging the weapon back to the man. “Please stand up.” Was the added sheepish laugh before Tauriel peered up at Bilbo’s awkward smile, nodding and re-sheathing the weapon as he hauled himself to his feet.

“If you have need of me, Khaleesi, just use this.” Digging around the few pouches at his belt, the man produced a small whistle and gently nudged it into Bilbo’s hand. She gawked.

“You are no dog!”

“Yet I will heed it.” He said with an easy bow before excusing himself, leaving the curly haired woman to gape at his back. What...an odd man, Bilbo decided at last, fingers tightly wrapping around the gifted whistle. She had a principal opposition to using a whistle to summon another human being to do her bidding.

Sighing, she stashed the whistle and hoped that she might one day accidentally lose or misplace it. You know...accidentally. And still, in all her wandering around camp, Bilbo did not run into Thorin once. Where exactly did her wife go for all this time? It was a frustrating thought that Bilbo had to wrestle down and in her attempt to distract herself, she almost ran headlong into Ori.

The younger girl squeaked loudly, and Bilbo quickly grabbed her by the shoulders. “Ori, gracious, it’s alright.”

“Oh, Khaleesi! I am so sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was going and...”

“Ori really, it’s alright.” Bilbo broke her off with a kind smile, gently patting the younger girl on the shoulder. “Breathe.” She added and Ori finally laughed a bit sheepishly, nervously tucking a lilac streaked strand of hair behind her ear.

“I’m really sorry...” She said faintly, kicking at the ground and Bilbo sighed.

“Ori. Really. It’s quite alright. Take deep breaths... there you go dear.” Ori calmed herself slowly before Bilbo gave her a bright, almost motherly smile and finally let go of the lass’ shoulders. “There you are.” Ori looked at her thankfully before Bilbo’s hands went to her hips and she tutted.

“I don’t suppose you’ve seen that wife of mine anywhere?”

Ori, who looked quite surprised at the casual phrasing of the question, had to think for a moment. “The Khal has gone on patrol with some of her warriors. She will not be back till later.” Bilbo sighed in defeat at that but fixed herself quickly.

“Well, since the Khal decided to leave once more, perhaps you can help me?” At Ori’s look of confusion, Bilbo smiled reassuringly. “It’s nothing drastic, I assure you. I wish to learn about the people. I know you said I should ask your sister or um... Balin, was it? But you’re a smart girl Ori, I’m sure you can help me.”

Ori couldn’t help but smile at the praise and finally nodded, joining Bilbo in her walk around camp. Time found the two hours later, sitting outside Bilbo’s tent as Ori braided the Khaleesi’s hair.

“Zara... zarac...”

“No, no Khaleesi, it’s an r sound. Zɑrɑ:rɣɑrɑ:f.”

Focusing really hard and scrunching up her features, Bilbo tried again. “Ze...no...gracious, this language is hard to wrap around my tongue. Zara:rɣɑ...ra...f...” She breathed finally and Ori beamed bright.

“Very good, Khaleesi. It means ‘Altars of offerings’.” Ori said eagerly before thinking of something else. “Okay, try um... sigintara:g.” Side glancing at Ori, Bilbo focused really heard again, licking her lips.

“Se...no...”

“Take your time, say it slow.” Ori prompted softly and Bilbo nodded slightly, sucking in her cheeks for a moment. Gracious, what had she gotten herself into.

“Okay. Si...gia...no... Sigin...” She peered at Ori, who nodded in approval and soldiered on, squinting one eye shut. “Sigin...tarahg...”

“Good, Khaleesi! Only, not tarahg, but tara:g...”

“Tara:g.”

“Yes, good. It means ‘Long beards.’”

“Long... beards?” Bilbo repeated slowly.

“It...”

“Another phrase for ‘Durin’s folk.’” Came the comment from Thorin, who had been silently watching them from around the corner of the tent up until this point. Both women nearly jumped out of their skin and Ori quickly scrambled to her feet and bowed.

“Khal Thorin, I am sorry I did not...” Thorin broke her off with a gesture, studying them both a bit coldly before her eyes traveled to Ori.

“You are teaching Khuzdul?” She asked, her voice level but Ori shivered.

“I....well... yes...” She stuttered a bit sheepishly and at Thorin’s cold glance, Bilbo was suddenly on her feet and in front of the girl. She could just feel the storm behind her wife’s eyes.

“I asked her to.” The curly haired woman said quickly while her hair unraveled from its unfinished braid. “If I’m going to be steeped in the culture, I should know the language and such, shouldn’t I?” Thorin looked impassive.

“Khuzdul is not a language we teach to outsiders.” She said flatly which made Bilbo bristle.

“Outsiders? Now wait just one minute! I was under the impression that I was married to the Khal. Which means I’m no longer an outsider.” Thorin frowned.

“Maybe, but...”

“And I was also under the impression that you said I was not yet Dothraki. How am I to learn to be one if you forbid people from teaching me your language?!” Thorin looked taken aback and Bilbo all but glared, hands now on her hips. “So do not blame the girl for something I asked her to help me with and certainly do not blame her for helping me assimilate while you’ve been off doing...whatever you’ve been doing.” 

“Doing whatever I am doing?” Thorin breathed, her brows knitting together. “I am scouting. I am making sure no enemies will break into our camp and slaughter us during the night. Or did you forget that people are after your head?” But Bilbo wouldn’t back down. Her Took side won over and she wasn’t done.

“I have survived on this earth for 25 years and if you think that your sudden, disingenuous worry over the well being of my head gives you grounds to abandon me completely, you shall have another think coming!” The curly haired woman snapped in response before she turned, grabbing a terrified looking Ori by the arm and gently guiding the girl away in a huff.

Thorin stared after them before letting out a strangled noise in the back of her throat. A gruff laugh sounded from behind her as Dwalin peered around the Khal to watch Bilbo’s retreating back.

“I see she’s fitting in nicely.” Was the comment from the warrior as Thorin made another strangled noise and threw her arms up in defeat.

“Women! Honestly!”

Dwalin laughed again, the sound faint in her throat and rubbed a hand over the shorn sides of her head. “She’s definitely a feisty one. Not two days married and you’re fighting already. You two must be made for each other.” Thorin glowered at her friend and earned an unimpressed shrug in response.

“Khuzdul is OUR language, Dwalin.”

“Yes, and she is YOUR wife. Which means this is something she’ll have to learn whether you or the ancestors approve of it or not.”

“You AGREE with her?”

“I agree that it’s something that has to happen. We can’t be forever greedy over our language, especially if we’re expecting her to actually fit in.” Dwalin pointed out in a strange lapse into reasonable thinking which Thorin found both true and rather annoying. She grimaced and Dwalin scoffed.

“You’re being immature.”

“And you’re being annoyingly reasonable." The Khal muttered before rubbing a hand over her face. Oh how she hated apologizing. Dwalin grunted next to her.

“It wasn’t like the lass was teaching that durjâl of our language.” She said calmly, meaning Tauriel before bumping her fist against Thorin’s arm. “Now calm down, and go speak to her. You’ll both sleep better for it.”  

Thorin growled and grumped but, finally sighing in defeat, the Khal slunk off to find her wife, Dwalin letting her go with a nod of approval. And boy did Thorin really hate apologizing.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small notes- 
> 
> As said before, I wanted to combine the canons, and since this is Tolkien's dwarves functioning as the Khalasar, why not have them actually speak Khuzdul instead of Dothraki. 
> 
> The Khuzdul is written phonetically instead of how it's actually spelled because it made more sense in a learning language sort of way.  
> Sigin-tarâg is how "Long beards" or Durin's folk is actually written.  
> Zarârgharâf is how "Altars of offerings" is actually written. 
> 
> Durjâl means stranger. 
> 
> And badass female warrior Dwalin is super fun to write.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	4. Oddest things from oddest places

Despite her most noble efforts, Thorin couldn’t find her wife all day, getting derailed in her search by almost everyone she bumped into. It was simultaneously irritating and calming and by the time Thorin did find Bilbo, the curly haired woman was back in her tent. She sat on the ground, surrounded by furs and leaning against one of the chests with the dragon egg nestled in her lap. As Thorin came in, she noticed that her wife was scribbling something on scraps of paper. She watched. Quietly. Not saying a word as Bilbo didn’t even look up at her before the Khal made her way across the tent and settled on the makeshift mattress covered in fur pelts.

Unfastening her arakh from her hip and digging out a whetstone, the Khal began to slowly sharpen the weapon, eyes focused mainly on the blade, occasionally flicking up at her wife. Bilbo remained impassive, the scritching of her pen joining in with the faint “shink” of the whetstone over steel.

“I suppose...” Thorin began in between sharpening, still not looking up at Bilbo. “It would be beneficial to you if you knew the language.” She heard the scritch of the pen stop but didn’t tear away from her task, her expression remaining blank. “And learned about the culture.” The Khal added almost as an afterthought and heard Bilbo scoff faintly.

“Gracious, it’s like pulling teeth.” The curly haired woman muttered under her nose before straightening as Thorin finally looked up at her.

“Khuzdul is language taught to us by Aulë. We guard it with utmost jealousy.” Thorin said flatly as her eyes met Bilbo’s. “Few outsiders know it. Yet...if you are to carry the mantle of Khaleesi, I...suppose you must know the language of our people.”

Bilbo shifted so she sat facing Thorin now, egg still resting in her lap. “And you are ALRIGHT with this?” The curly haired woman asked slowly and Thorin involuntarily sucked in her bottom lip.

“I... will be. Perhaps. Later.” The taller woman breathed at last and heard Bilbo heft a long sigh.

“I suppose that’s better than nothing.” Staring at the dragon egg for a moment, Bilbo scrunched her features before snapping her fingers quickly. “Oh! Don’t you yell at Ori over this.”

“Fine.”

“And apologize. You gave the lass a fright.”

“...Fine.”

“Good.”

A long silence passed between them, Thorin continuing to sharpen her weapon while Bilbo idly ran her fingers over the fossilized scales of the egg.

“You seem to have taken a shine to that thing.” The Khal broke the silence as she finished sharpening her arakh, setting it aside and leaning forward to study Bilbo closer. Bilbo, in her turn, smiled faintly.

“Dragons, Thorin. Can you imagine?” She breathed dreamily and Thorin grunted faintly.

“Only in the fantasies of my childhood.” At Bilbo spluttered out giggle, the Khal’s eyebrows winged up.

“I am sorry. It’s hard to imagine you as a child.” Thorin hid her affronted glare and, clicking the tongue against the roof of her tongue, eyed Bilbo grumpily.

“Yet I was one. As I’m sure you were an insufferable monster.” Was the retort and Bilbo, instead of sounding offended, actually laughed. Thorin felt a smile tug her lips. “Why are you so fixated on the notion of dragons?” She asked the smaller woman earning a long pause of silence as Bilbo contemplated the question.

“I’m...not really sure. They would be handy, wouldn’t they?” She offered with a weak chuckle and wrinkle of her nose, idly twirling the egg in one hand. How could she explain that she felt an odd connection with an ancient, fossilized dragon egg? It would be absolutely loony, she was sure and Bilbo wasn’t yet willing to invite that sort of judgment from her new wife. Said new wife suddenly straightened, her eyes flashing.

“They would...oh how they would.” She hissed through her teeth and Bilbo stiffened at the sudden venom in Thorin’s voice, hugging the egg closer.

“Thorin?” The Khal’s gaze shot down at her wife, who suddenly looked incredibly uncomfortable. Taking a deep, calming breath, Thorin rubbed her face.

“I monster has taken our city. A monster that beheaded my mother and chased us into exile.” She hissed despite best efforts to remain calm, not noticing as Bilbo scooted closer to sit basically at her feet. By the time the Khal realized it, she was squeezing her fists so tight that her knuckles turned white, nails digging into the palm of her hand before Bilbo’s hand carefully pressed to Thorin’s knuckles, fingers prying the Khal’s fists loose.

“Easy.” The smaller woman said faintly as Thorin tensed again, her icy eyes now fixed on her wife’s face. “What monster?”

“Azog.” Bilbo couldn’t hold back a frown of confusion and the Khal attempted to explain. “This monster... this... Pale orc has amassed an army even greater than the Dothraki. IT drove us from our city and it slaughtered many as we ran.” Thorin fought really hard not to crush Bilbo’s fingers by accident. “I will destroy it. With my bare hands. Wring the life from that monster’s filthy neck.“ She hissed and Bilbo chewed on her bottom lip, carefully patting her wife’s hand in what she hoped would come across as a reassuring, supportive manner.

Thorin grew quiet, a storm behind her expression before she finally let her eyes close and slowly exhaled. It took her the longest time to calm herself. Bilbo said nothing but saw the Khal’s lips slowly tug into the faintest of smiles. “You’re an odd woman, Bilbo.” Thorin breathed at last, eyes slowly opening to peer at her wife’s face. Bilbo scoffed.

“So Gandalf keeps telling me.” She grumbled, pinching the skin of Thorin’s hand before slipping her own free. Her handler had made a point to lovingly call her odd at the most spontaneous times, often bringing up her Tookish blood and heritage. But Bilbo didn’t even remember any of her Took relatives, outside of her father at least. She peered at Thorin.

“Will you be okay?” She asked her wife slowly. Said wife rubbed a tired hand over her face before nodding slowly.

“Probably. It has been a long time since I lost my nerve.” She admitted at last and peered at the egg still cradled in Bilbo’s lap. “May I?” Came the slow question. Bilbo hesitated and wondered why she did. It had only been two days since she received this gift and already she had formed the oddest motherly attachment to it. Slowly, she scooped it from her lap and handed it up to Thorin.

To her approval, the Khal was ever so careful as she took the egg, slowly turning it to see the candlelight in their tent dance on its scaly surface. “What will you do with it?” She asked Bilbo after a moment and the curly haired woman shrugged, making a small noise.

“I don’t know. But it’s a shame to get rid of such a lovely gift.”

“Hmmm...it’s heavier than I expected. I wonder where Gandalf found such a thing.”

“Who knows? Gandalf always finds the oddest things in the oddest places.” Bilbo shrugged, earning a faint chuckle from Thorin before she returned the egg to its owner. And again, Bilbo could swear she could feel it pulse beneath her fingers, even through the layers of rock. She smiled.

Thorin hauled herself to her feet, snapping Bilbo out of her reverie to quirk an eyebrow at her wife. “Get some sleep. We will be moving on in the morning.” The Khal suggested as she grabbed the arakh once more, strapping it to her belt and heading for the exit.

“We are...good then?” Came the question from Bilbo, stopping Thorin at the tent flap as she looked back at her wife, still seated in the furs. Even now, Thorin found herself oddly captivated by this strange woman; with her full cheeks, long brown curls spilling in ringlets over bare shoulders and dark blue eyes. This stranger that Thorin couldn’t seem to get her mind off of. The Khal’s lips tugged faintly upward.

“We are good.” She affirmed before tutting “When we ride tomorrow, wear your boots. Your feet won’t hurt quite so bad.” The Khal added, indicating Bilbo’s bandaged feet before nodding gently and exiting the tent. Bilbo blinked, looking down before laughing sheepishly and finally hauling herself to her feet to get ready for bed. When she did actually fall asleep, she was oh so very glad they had the talk, hugging the egg close to her stomach.

The next morning was wonderfully warm and when Bilbo rolled out of the furs, she felt remarkably rested and refreshed. Washing up and redoing her bandages herself, Bilbo slunk out of the tent only to be stopped almost at the entrance by an older woman, with the kindest eyes and whitest hair that Bilbo ever seen. She smiled warmly, resting a hand against Bilbo’s elbow.

“Good morning, Khaleesi.”

“Oh! Good morning!” When the woman didn’t say anything else right away, Bilbo cleared her throat. “Can...can I help you with something?” The woman seemed to snap back to the moment before smiling warmly.

“No, but I can help you.” She said bluntly and before Bilbo could protest, she bowed. “I am called Balin. The Khal has asked me to teach you of our histories and culture.” The older woman added and Bilbo went from protesting to a shocked smile very quickly.

“Gracious, she works quickly.” The curly haired woman blurted out loud, making Balin laugh good naturedly before she accompanied Bilbo to get food and then to fetch their horses. But it was Tauriel who brought Bilbo her horse and Tauriel who helped her actually mount it. One day, Bilbo swore to herself, one day she’d be able to get on the horse by herself. But the man smiled faintly as she thanked him whole heartedly and carefully slid the dragon egg into her hands.

“Keep it close, Khaleesi.” He said softly before bowing and disappearing out of sight. Bilbo watched him go before peering down at the egg. What an odd fellow, really. But she clutched the egg tightly as the Khalasar moved on and Balin began to tell her various stories and histories of the Dothraki. It turned out Balin wasn’t just an incredible Dothraki warrior. She was a learned woman and Thorin’s advisor and Bilbo learned more from her in one day than she ever expected. She was ever so patient with all of Bilbo’s questions and didn’t get that far into Dothraki history before they were setting up camp once more. Yet it was still far more than Bilbo expected.

She chuckled sheepishly. “You’ll have to forgive me. This is all too fascinating not to question intensively.” But Balin waved the apology aside with a warm smile.

“No apology needed. I hope this was helpful.”

“Incredibly! It is also quite helpful to know more of Aulë. I am ashamed to admit that I knew almost nothing.”

“Not surprising. It’s not common knowledge.” The older woman said with an easy shrug, studying Bilbo in an almost motherly fashion and giving her a little wink. “We will continue tomorrow, I promise. For now, I think you need to rest your ears.” Thanking Balin repeatedly, Bilbo slowly and carefully slipped off her horse before digging out an apple that she had stashed in her saddle bags and gratefully feeding it to the animal.

“There you are, Myrtle. It’ll be our little secret.” She crooned, petting the horse’s snout lovingly before allowing one of the warriors to take the horse where the rest were being kept. She also found food for herself and by the time she finished eating, her tent was already prepared.

Really, the Dothraki were quite proficient in everything they put their hands to. It was also surprising when Bilbo found out from Balin that they were great smiths.

“Smithing? Really?” She had asked incredulously of the older woman and earned a light laugh in reply.

“Many are surprised, since we are viewed as mostly a nomadic culture. But yes. Some of the greatest weapons come from Dothraki forges. We pride ourselves in our work. It has often been said that many Dothraki do not marry, since they are more in love with their crafts than their significant others.”

“Huh...” Bilbo had considered those facts curiously before looking at Balin. “Why do you think the Khal was willing to marry?” She asked at last and Balin smiled.

“You would have to ask her that, Khaleesi.” Was the expected reply and Bilbo left it that. Now that she was back in her tent, she had more time to think things over. She thought about the past couple of days and how many strange people she met. Strange, but not in a bad way. They were all so different but moved in great harmony with one another. She was starting to find that she almost, sort of...quite liked it here.

Sitting down on the furs, Bilbo watched the fire pit in the middle of her tent dreamily, idle fingers stroking the egg. Her thoughts wandered. How odd it was to be married. To suddenly feel like you’re part of something bigger than yourself. How it was to be the Khal’s wife of all things.

And dragons.

Her thoughts always went back to dragons. She remembered Gandalf telling her how fire couldn’t kill dragons. How their scales were harder than diamonds. Still watching the fire pit, Bilbo stood slowly moving until she stood over it with the egg in her hands. The fire wasn’t huge now and crackled merrily over hot coals and Bilbo, without even thinking, slowly lowered the egg down into the midst of the flames.

At first, she yanked her hands back quickly, watching the flames as they burned merrily around the egg. But something was odd. The fire, even for a brief moment should have seared her flesh. But it hadn’t. And Bilbo, frowning intensely, dipped her hands back into the flames and carefully, slowly started to pull the egg back out.

“Bilbo!” Came from the entrance to her tent and suddenly the egg was being yanked away from her by a pair of strong, calloused hands. There was loud growl of pain before the egg went crashing to the ground, rolling away with a bit of a clatter. Bilbo’s eyes widened, first going to her own pristinely undamaged hands, then slowly traveled to the giant burn marks forming on Thorin’s palms.

“...How?” Thorin rasped, her own eyes fixed on her wife’s unmarred skin before quickly dashing up to her face. “How?” She repeated once more and as Bilbo looked as confused as she felt, the Khal frowned. “You...” She couldn’t articulate her thoughts and flopped down to sit on the fur covered bed. Bilbo was quickly beside her with some cold water, salve and bandages.

“I don’t understand. Your flesh should have burned, how did you..?” Thorin breathed, staring at her wife as said wife set to tending to the Khal’s seared skin. Biting her bottom lip and chewing on it a little, Bilbo shrugged finally, dabbing salve on her wife’s palms.

“I...don’t know, Thorin.” She said slowly even while one phrase resounded in her mind.

Fire cannot kill a dragon.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dragons, dragons, dragons.
> 
> It's not a proper crossover without dragons.
> 
> I also wanna quickly thank everyone a ton for reading. I really didn't think people were gonna actually like it *nervously skips off*


	5. Comfort wreathed in smoke

When Bilbo finished tending and bandaging Thorin’s hands, the Khal looked at her a little differently. It wasn’t fear, at least not really, but it was a deranged sort of curiosity. Thorin studied Bilbo intently from where the smaller woman sat on the ground before yanking her up to sit on the makeshift mattress.

“Are you some sort of witch?” She asked breathlessly and Bilbo gawked.

“W...what? Me? A witch? No, no of course not!” Thorin looked skeptical and Bilbo spluttered, hands going to nervously tug at her curls. “I’m not! Not a drop of magic in my blood, I swear!” The Khal drew out a long ‘hmmm’ leaning in incredibly close to Bilbo and practically sniffing at her. As if that would help her with anything. Bilbo frowned and nudged her wife back. “I’m serious, I’m not.”

“Then explain the hands.”

There was a long silence while Bilbo sucked in her cheeks. “I can’t.” She said at last and Thorin’s frown only deepened.

Well, maybe she could. But it would sound incredibly absurd, even now. Bilbo considered for the longest time, watching Thorin’s face before hissing slightly. “I... well...” She tried and trailed off again as those ice blue eyes landed on her face once more. No, she decided. It wasn’t time yet. Instead, she smiled, if a bit awkwardly and gently patted her wife’s hand.

“Maybe it’s something we’ll find out about later?” She shrugged gently and Thorin, while still not looking entirely convinced on the matter, finally decided to drop it. Bilbo carefully took the woman’s hands in her own, eyes cast down at the bandages. “I am sorry you got burned.” She muttered under her nose before peering up at Thorin. “...Why did you grab it from me?”

Thorin grunted and grumbled, wrinkling her nose. “Can’t have you injuring yourself, can I?” She muttered at last and Bilbo smiled despite herself.

“Awww you’re sweet.” She breathed, earning a grunt and a frown from the Khal. Bilbo laughed gently, still carefully holding Thorin by the hands, palms up before raising them to her lips and pressing a soft kiss against the bandages. Thorin looked about to protest but broke off, watching her wife intently. The kiss was barely felt, but the action itself made the Khal calm down, her eyes focused on Bilbo’s lips. She didn’t move for the longest time before her hands slipped from Bilbo’s pressing to her wife’s cheeks with a faint hiss of pain. Bilbo tutted impatiently.

“Don’t do that. You just got hurt.” She reprimanded. Thorin ignored the comment for a moment, thumb gently sliding over soft skin before she finally pulled her hands back.

“You should get some sleep.”

“I’m not the one who looks like she needs it.” Bilbo replied before wrinkling her nose as Thorin scowled. The curly haired woman let her expression soften.

“I’m serious, Thorin. You look dead on your feet. Please?” The Khal stared at her Khaleesi’s face before finally relenting.

“Fine. But no more stunts.” She grumbled and when Bilbo smiles at her innocently, Thorin sighed crawling over the furs tiredly. She was asleep almost before her head hit the pillow.

When Thorin woke up the next morning, it was to an unfamiliar warmth at her side. She blinked, yawning and rubbing a hand over her eyes before tiredly peering over. Bilbo was curled at her side now, one hand slid under her cheek as she slept, wisps of curls framing elegantly around her face. Thorin studied her wife, noticing the egg clutched close to her stomach once more. She grimaced at the thing but did nothing to take it away before leaning down and pressing a faint kiss to the smaller woman’s cheek. Bilbo stirred but didn’t wake and Thorin slid off their bed, silently exiting the tent.

Bilbo herself awoke an hour later, lazily stretching and slowly moving to sit up. She didn’t see Thorin but didn’t begrudge it as much as she had before and, sliding her boots on, toddled out of the tent. She got food and, as was becoming their custom, was joined by Tauriel in their morning walk around camp. They had been chatting quietly for a bit when a voice suddenly boomed over the din of the camp.

“Where is she?! Where is this new Khaleesi I’ve heard so much about?!” Bilbo froze in midsip of milk, almost spurting it back into her cup while Tauriel stiffened at her side, hand going to the hilt of his sword. Through the tents and the people came a rather tall, black haired man. He was covered in war paint and his eyes were icy blue but gleamed with some kind of hidden inner joke. He stopped, spotted Bilbo, then completely ignoring Tauriel, barreled towards the new Khaleesi. Bilbo wasn’t sure if she should run or not but soon the man was right in front of her, having to almost bend in two for their eyes to meet. He studied her face closely, then, without warning, grabbed her by the waist and hefted her in the air, spinning the terrified woman about.

“Dis! Put her down!” Came Thorin’s annoyed command from behind the man who beamed playfully, peering from Thorin to the very confused and mortified Bilbo.

“You know how to pick them, sister! I approve!” He boomed brightly before setting Bilbo back on the grass and clapping a hand on her shoulder, making her knees buckle. Tauriel glowered and the man named Dis quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Ease up there. Just getting to know the new family.” He said easily before beaming at Bilbo. “No harm meant, Khaleesi.”

Bilbo, who finally managed to recover herself, fought out a shaky smile. Dis...oh! Of course! “Oh, you’re Fili and Kili’s father.” She said gently and earned an approving smile from the much larger male.

“I see my sister mentioned me.”

“Not exactly.”

Dis couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Then I am less surprised.” He said casually, earning a glare from Thorin who growled faintly.

“Where is Frerin, Dis? I thought you were coming back together.” She asked instead, her brother shrugging easily.

“She said she’ll be back tomorrow. She knows our path.” He said casually before peering down at Bilbo and winking. Bilbo smiled. This ‘Dis’ seemed far less formal than his sister. And definitely more easy going. This helped Bilbo relax and she gently patted Tauriel’s wrist before the man finally eased his hold on his sword. He still didn’t look altogether thrilled over the manhandling of the Khaleesi but Bilbo didn’t seem to mind, her bodyguard finally relenting. Bowing, the red haired man excused himself. Spotting Thorin glaring after him, Bilbo tutted.

“You stop that. Gandalf has personally picked him out to be my bodyguard while she attends to other duties. He can’t be all bad.” She reprimanded, waggling her finger at the Khal and making Dis laugh next to her.

“This is marvelous.” The man said easily as he eyed his sister before looking down at Bilbo. “Come Khaleesi, I think I have many stories to tell you of your new Khal.”

“I’m sure I will be delighted to hear.”

“I’m sure you’ll be even more delighted when you hear what they contain.” Dis said easily and, ignoring Thorin’s protests, led the curly haired woman away so they could chat. And Thorin would have followed had Balin not dragged her away. The Khal silently swore revenge on her brother.

Said brother had settled comfortably with Bilbo and they were actually talking. Over tea, no less. Bilbo found the man’s company incredibly charming, if also overbearing, mostly due to his height. He was about a head and a half taller than Thorin, and since Thorin was already two heads taller than her wife, it made said wife feel incredibly tiny. And the man certainly had the personality to fill a throne room. He was large and sarcastic and ever so witty.

“I must say,” Bilbo commented as she sipped her tea, stretching her feet out luxuriously, “if it wasn’t for the eyes, I would have never guessed you and Thorin to be related.”

Dis chuckled in reply, shrugging and taking a swig of tea. “She can be quite the uncultured barbarian. But beneath that, there’s a heart of gold.”

“Stop, she might hear you.” The smaller woman laughed, making Dis smile smugly.

“Granted, you must break through many vaults to get to that heart.” The man shrugged easily, making Bilbo chortle lightly into her cup.  Studying her for a quiet moment, the man rubbed at his stubble covered chin. “Tell me then, Miss Baggins. What inclined you to say yes to this arrangement?” He asked at last and Bilbo lowered the cup from her lips, wrinkling her nose.

“I didn’t.” Dis held back a loud snort of laughter and quirked an eyebrow. Bilbo sucked in her cheeks. “I didn’t want to get married. In fact, I was quite sure Thorin would smother me in my sleep.”

“How very right of you to be worried.”

“Maybe. But also quite paranoid.”

“Paranoid seems to be the best thing to be when not knowing anyone or anything in a situation.” Dis shrugged easily, finishing his tea and setting the cup aside. “You must forgive me for missing the wedding. I hope my sister didn’t embarrass herself too badly.”

“She was quite stoic.”

“Ah, such a shame. I suppose if she was trying to imitate one of the statues at Vaes Dothrak, she did a splendid job.” He smiled before straightening and digging around the many pouches attached to his belt. “I have however, brought you a gift. It is small but I hope you may at least derive some use out of it.”

“Oh you did not have t...” But Dis broke Bilbo off with a small shake of his head.

“At least pretend it will be good luck to receive it.” He said easily before producing a small wrapped pouch and passing it to the woman. She straightened, setting her tea aside and carefully undoing the twine wrapped around the parcel. Inside was an intricately carved briar wood pipe. It was incredibly detailed with tiny Dothraki warriors marching around its bowl with intricate vines spreading over the shank and to its stem. Bilbo raised the pipe to her eyes to better study all the details before beaming wide. Dis looked pleased as well.

“I have heard through the grape vine that you partook.” He said easily and the woman didn’t hesitate in agreeing. She didn’t have to question how the man heard. Gandalf certainly had a way of getting around.

“I have not in a while. My old pipe was low quality clay and broke quite easily.” She said a bit sadly before smiling at her new brother-in-law. “Thank you, Dis. This is a very thoughtful gift.”

Dis’ pleased expression remained and they decided the best way to enjoy said gift was to light up. An enjoyable experience no less, as they wreathed themselves in a light cloud of smoke. And Bilbo could very well say that she never had a pipe of this quality before. Blowing little rings of smoke, the curly haired woman peered at Dis curiously.

“Just how big is your family, if you don’t mind me asking?” She said at last, carefully adjusting in her seat. Dis smiled faintly, finishing his own pipe and tapping out the excess tobacco.

“Not excessively big really. Just me, my two sisters and my two daughters. I assume you’ve met almost everyone. Except for Frerin.” Bilbo nodded gently and Dis considered her thoughtfully.

“What about you?”

The question made Bilbo frown slightly, fidgeting a little and wrinkling her nose. “My family is dead. Anyone I cared for anyway.” She said a bit bitterly before chuckling weakly. “It’s old history really. Especially across the sea.” When Dis looked apologetic for asking, Bilbo waved it aside. “Please don’t. The past is the past.” She then proceeded to question her new brother-in-law on other things, diverting the topic completely until Thorin found them hours later.

She stopped, standing there quietly, simply content in watching her new wife interact so easily with her giant lug of a brother. They looked so comfortable together. And Thorin felt a great weight lift off her shoulders. Thank Mahal. She had been so worried. Worried that Bilbo wouldn’t take to her siblings, especially to Dis. Worried Dis would not approve. It was foolish really. This was an arranged marriage and she was worrying about things that would not have mattered either way. But the Khal had begun to discover that she was starting to quite like her new wife. And she supposed part of liking the woman, was wishing she’d actually be comfortable in her new environment.

So far, it appeared successful.

And it continued to appear that way as Fili and Kili sped past their aunt to latch onto their father, making both Bilbo and Dis laugh as the man pulled his girls close.

Yes, Thorin decided. This was good. She liked...this. It felt complete.

And feeling complete was something Thorin wasn’t willing to part with.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seeing as most of Dis that exists is pure headcanon, I hope I did him/her justice. And switching Dis and Frerin's genders somehow confused my brain for reasons I can't explain.
> 
> Regardless, this was ever so fun to write and I fear I've been neglecting my other (almost finished) fic to work on this one.
> 
> And never in my life did I think I'd be looking at how and what pipes are made of. Bless the internet.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	6. Little toy dragon

Despite her feeling of completeness, Thorin wasn’t deterred from shooing Dis and the girls away so she could actually spend some time with her wife. It hadn’t been something she was particularly compelled to do before today and now the prospect seemed incredibly appealing.

Bilbo quirked an eyebrow and smiled her cheeky smile.

“Are we suddenly jealous?” She couldn’t help but laugh and Thorin scoffed loudly.

“Jealousy has nothing to do with actually wanting to spend time with my wife.” Was the blank reply but Bilbo’s cheeky smile remained and she shrugged and waved at Thorin.

“Certainly, oh great Khal.”

“Impudence.”

“Can’t be if I’m on your level.” Thorin growled and Bilbo grinned her victory. “Lighten up, Thorin. It’ll be good for you.” She added, flicking a hand through her luxurious curls before bursting into laughter at the Khal’s impassive expression. Maybe she had to teach her new wife the ways of a sense of humor. Still, baby steps.

Carefully reaching over, Bilbo finally allowed herself to take Thorin’s hand. A small but intimate gesture that made the Khal freeze suddenly, eyes dashing down to her wife.

“Bilbo..?”

“Baby steps, right?” Was the gentle comment. Thorin studied her intently before allowing the faintest of smiles to draw over her features, fingers carefully wrapping around Bilbo’s own.

“Yes.” She agreed at last, to Bilbo’s infinite relief before whisking the woman away to actually spend time together. And not just a little bit of time. Bilbo was pleased to find that the Khal willingly spend the rest of the day with her wife, simply...talking. It was perhaps an odd concept for Thorin, one she wasn’t fully comfortable with but Bilbo was grateful for the opportunity.

And Bilbo was also gratified to spend some time with the Khal without the other woman running off on some patrol or other. They had settled outside of their tent, Thorin allowing Bilbo to undo her incredibly long braid. As the smaller woman’s careful fingers worked gently on their task, they talked of Durin’s folk. Thorin discovered that Bilbo was ever the enthusiast in family histories and genealogies and the Khal absolutely did not mind talking about her own history. Durin the Deathless had become a mighty myth among their people and Thorin derived a great joy in telling her new wife about her mighty ancestor.

“Incredible...” Bilbo breathed at last as she re-braided the Khal’s magnificent braid after finishing with all the little ones. “I love hearing of your ancestors, Thorin. Such great tales of heroism.” She said dreamily and Thorin smiled despite herself, peering over her shoulder at her wife.

“I am glad you find it this interesting. Most do not.”

“Are you joking? I live for this sort of thing.” Bilbo laughed as she finished Thorin’s braid and carefully tied it back. “There you are, good as new.” Thorin turned, running a hand carefully over her wife’s handiwork before offering her an approving smile and letting her eyes rest on Bilbo’s mess of curls. Bilbo laughed.

“Oh no, you don’t have to.” She smiled, shaking her head but Thorin didn’t appear deterred.

“Let me try.” The Khal said in determination before making Bilbo turn around and undoing the clasp that was currently holding her hair in its ponytail. Curls cascaded free and Thorin carefully ran calloused fingers through them before making a noble attempt at braiding.

“What of your family, Bilbo?” Thorin asked after a long silence and saw Bilbo’s shoulders stiffen for a brief moment.

“What about them?” She muttered and Thorin frowned, flicking her shoulder. Bilbo sighed. “They’re dead, Thorin. I don’t really like talking about it.”

“Surely you have some good memories.” Thorin insisted and Bilbo frowned deeply before sighing in defeat. She supposed she did.

“My father was an odd man. He was King, you know. King of the seven Kingdoms. My mother always called him an odd duck. He liked to adventure, of all things. Which was unheard of for our people. He’d come back with his guardsmen, covered in muck and sweat, laughing about some ridiculous shenanigans.” She trailed off, chewing on her bottom lip.

“You miss them?”

“Terribly. My mother may have been a bit...boring, but she was still my mother. They...they didn’t deserve what happened.”

“Death always comes to those who least deserve it, Bilbo.” Thorin said almost flatly as she struggled to make the curls behave. She wondered how Ori had managed it so easily earlier.

“I...suppose that’s true. The monsters live forever.” The smaller woman sighed out before shooting a look at Thorin over her shoulder and managing a faint laugh. “I told you that you didn’t have to.” She teased and Thorin grunted, giving up on the large braid and doing a few smaller ones instead.

It occurred to Bilbo that this was probably an incredibly important gesture on the Khal’s part and wondered what it was that made braids so important. “Thorin?”

“Hmm?”

“Do braids signify something in your culture?”

Thorin considered. “In a few ways, yes. Warriors wear them long to signify their prowess in battle.”

“Really?”

“The longer the braid, the longer a warrior has remained undefeated. When we are defeated, we cut our braids as a sign of our shame.” She paused for a moment. “If we live to tell of that shame, of course. Many Dothrakar would rather die in the field of battle.” She added seriously. Bilbo frowned.

“What if you had the chance to fight and defeat the person who beat you? You would still want to die instead?”

“We do not live a life of ‘what ifs’, Bilbo.” The Khal said sternly as she finished the little braids and slipped her wife’s hair back into its clipped up ponytail. Bilbo considered, rubbing her fingers over her chin.

“You survived Azog.” She pointed out. “Are you saying you would have rather died than gotten this second chance to defeat it?” Thorin stiffened.

“That... is a fair point...” She breathed after a long silence, eyeing Bilbo. The smaller woman smiled faintly.

“Gives you a good chance for revenge.” Bilbo shrugged before turning so she could face Thorin once more, studying the Khal’s features and smiling up at her. “Thank you for spending time with me today, Thorin. I know you’re usually busy.”

The Khal managed to finally return her wife’s smile. “You were right on this account. If we are married we should at least TRY to spend some time in each other’s company.” She stood, reaching down to help Bilbo up as well. “Come, let us see to our people.” Bilbo nodded gently, allowing Thorin to whisk her off once more. It was half way through their walk around camp that she realized. Thorin had said ‘OUR’ people. Not ‘my’ people. OUR. The word in itself made Bilbo horribly giddy and she couldn’t stop grinning like a fool until they returned to their tent for the night.

When she settled down however, and brought the egg onto her lap, Bilbo noticed Thorin eyeing it suspiciously.

“What?”

“I can’t help but wonder why that thing compelled you to stick your hands in the fire.” The Khal grumbled and Bilbo frowned, peering down at the egg.

“I don’t know.” She sighed at last, rubbing at the scales. Thorin watched Bilbo for a few quiet moments.

“You’re more attached than I realized.” The Khal said blankly and Bilbo grouched under her nose, blowing a curl from her eyes. She had her reasons. Even if she didn’t feel like there was something...alive in there. She had good reasons. But she wasn’t sure she could tell her wife yet.

“I...just like it.”

“Is that all?”

“That’s all.” Bilbo insisted before moving to lie down, hugging the egg close. “Can I meet Frerin tomorrow?”

“If you wish.”

Bilbo smiled, yawning tiredly. “I would like that.” She muttered, eyes closing before letting them open for a brief moment to look at Thorin. “Good night...Thorin.”

“Good night, Bilbo.” The Khal nodded in reply. Bilbo was asleep quickly and Thorin soon joined her on the mattress, scooting close to her wife and gingerly sliding an arm under the woman’s shoulders to pull her closer. Bilbo stirred and muttered in her sleep but didn’t wake up and Thorin, appreciating the new added warmth next to her, dropped off to sleep as well.

They awoke together, Bilbo curled up against her wife’s side. She blinked, peering up at Thorin and almost screeched loudly in surprise. She hadn’t left! Thorin had stayed and even pulled her close. The Khal yawned, rubbing at her eyes before peering down at her wife curiously.

“Is everything alright?”

“Y...YES.” Bilbo blurted out excitedly before simmering with a sheepish laugh. “You’re...still here.”

“Why would I not be?”

“You normally leave before even a ‘good morning’.” Thorin smiled faintly despite herself.

“Perhaps I thought today should be different.” She said simply before slowly sliding her arm from under Bilbo and sitting up, stretching luxuriously. Bilbo couldn’t help but blush, watching her wife’s back muscles as they moved beneath the skin as she stretched. She could probably lift me with one arm, Bilbo considered and the blush deepened. That was incredibly...attractive. Bilbo licked her lips and forced herself to roll out of bed.

They would be moving on again today and the camp was packed up quickly, Bilbo allowing Thorin to join her warriors on patrol while she rode along with Tauriel.

“I see you haven’t been smothered yet.” Came the remark from her other side, making Bilbo jump before she saw Gandalf on her white stallion. Bilbo huffed.

“So, I might have been wrong.” A knowing glint flashed in Gandalf’s eyes and made the smaller woman grumble and grouch. “Don’t say anything.”

“I did not.”

“I saw the look, Gandalf. You can’t fool me so easily.” Gandalf chuckled lightly, shaking her head and looking over at Tauriel.

“I see everything is alright so far.” The man nodded grimly before looking over to the front of the Khalasar.

“Where have you been off to, Gandalf?” He asked at last and Gandalf simply shrugged.

“Business.”

“Different sorts of business than usual?”

“Perhaps.” Bilbo looked between the two, getting the feeling that they had known each other for quite a while before Tauriel was taken on as Bilbo’s bodyguard. Bilbo let them talk and dropped to ride behind them and found herself riding alongside a very strange woman. She had two luxurious braids on either side of her face and wore a very strange hat, with various feathers and beads stuck into its ribbon. She appeared to be tinkering with something and when Bilbo leaned in curiously, her attention snapped over to the Khaleesi. She beamed.

“Wonderful isn’t it?” She said suddenly, making Bilbo jolt back into the moment and chuckle sheepishly.

“I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to pr...”

“No, no, no! It’s perfectly alright. You ARE the Khaleesi after all.” The hat wearing woman beamed brighter still and Bilbo’s smile eased into something more natural.

“I don’t think I know your name...” She began and the other woman conked herself on the head.

“Of course! How silly of me! Bofur is my name. It is a pleasure to ride alongside our Khaleesi.” She bowed and the fang earring dangling from her left ear clinked against the beads coming from her hat. Bilbo chuckled sheepishly.

“That’s really not necessary.” She tried, waving off the bow and the flattery but Bofur scoffed good naturedly.

“Nonsense! It’s respect that comes with title.” She said brightly. Bilbo grumbled under her nose, making Bofur laugh before the shorter woman’s attention snapped back to what Bofur was tinkering with. She looked curious again.

“What are you working on?”

“Oh! The egg Gandalf gave you inspired it.” Bofur admitted brightly, holding up her little creation. It was a little toy dragon, complete with incredibly detailed painted on red scales, tiny orange eyes and wings that actually flapped.

“Gracious! You made this?” Bilbo breathed in childlike awe and Bofur laughed.

“I have a few talents here and there. This is my favorite one.” She said brightly before handing the little dragon to Bilbo, who took it ever so carefully, studying all the details. Bofur snickered.

“It won’t break, you know. I make toys for Dothraki children. And they’re a menace in their own right. Try it out.” Finding the tiny switch on the dragon’s back, Bilbo flicked it a few times and the little toy flapped its wings and arched its neck with every flick of the switch. Bilbo smiled with childlike glee.

“This is wonderful.”

“You can keep it if you like.”

“Oh no, I couldn’t...”

“Khaleesi.”

“Bilbo.”

“Bilbo, please. As its creator, I insist that you have it. And maybe if there are ever any children that grace your life, you’ll already have something for them.” Bilbo’s smile waned at the mention of children in her life but she tried her best to keep it on for Bofur.

“Thank you, Bofur. It’s lovely.” Bofur beamed in reply and the two women spent the rest of their ride exchanging recipes and Bofur sharing horrific stories of battles past. Bilbo was slowly starting to discover that almost all the Dothraki, men and women were seasoned soldiers. Bofur tapped her chin.

“I forsee that the Khal may wish you to train with that sword of yours.” She said after the talk simmered down and Bilbo peered at the sword strapped to her saddle bags, flinching slightly.

“I don’t think I’d make a good warrior. I can barely lift it.” She laughed sheepishly but Bofur snorted.

“Nonsense. Ori can fight. I’m sure you can too.” Bilbo peered at sweet, young Ori as she rode beside Fili, attempting to converse and NOT blush. She supposed she shouldn’t judge a book by her cover.

“Gracious, you all really ARE warriors.” She laughed sheepishly, rubbing a hand through her curls while carefully balancing her newly gifted toy on the dragon egg. “Well, I suppose I can at least try... the worst I can do is severely embarrass myself in front of the whole host. Or possibly lose a limb.”

“That’s the spirit!” Bofur grinned, ignoring the last comments in favor of a hearty pat to Bilbo’s shoulders, which made the smaller woman shake. Confounded strength of the Dothraki, Bilbo thought with a mental laugh.

The host traveled until the sun began to set and when they broke camp once more, Bilbo parted from Bofur with another hearty thanks for her gift. As she rejoined Thorin for their supper together, she realized something with a start.

Frerin hadn’t shown up all day.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time to introduce more members of the company. And perhaps start revealing stuff about Bilbo's parents? In a weird, cryptically annoying way, haha.
> 
> Ah how I love canon melding.
> 
> This will be the last update for a month. I'm going to be out of country and won't be able to post anything due to my lack of laptop.  
> Thanks for reading! You guys have been fantastic!


End file.
